drowning in a haze of memories
by renee walker
Summary: It's been one of those rough days where he can't keep the memories out of his head. Percy goes and finds a swimming pool, lets himself sink to the bottom, lets himself breathe and relax for the first time all day.


**Written for the challenges _One Hit Wonder_ and _Summer Olympics_ (event: athletics) at Caesar's Palace. The prompts were _"And you were sitting at the bottom of a swimming pool"_ from the song _Young God_ by Halsey and "write a story over 2000 words."**

 **Word Count: 3057**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson or anything about it, Rick Riordan does.**

 **Trigger Warnings: PTSD, mentions of death, mentions of war**

* * *

Percy should be happy. He's won two wars, he's got a badass, brilliant and gorgeous girlfriend, he has a mortal family and a group of friends he basically considers family. He's got a life and a future, a spot for him at New Rome's university. He's got everything he never thought he would really have because he grew up with his mother in a tiny apartment getting pushed around by a disgusting step-father with only one friend and the knowledge that a) he was dyslexic, b) thus bad at school and c) his father had left him and his mother.

To have all this now…

Percy closes his eyes and sees demigods dying around him. He sees lives lost for the war, he sees Bob fighting for _Percy_ and, Hades, that makes him ache. He can see literal hell spanning in front of him in his nightmares and flashbacks. The scars of war haven't faded. Something lifting too fast makes him tense, when Annabeth or he himself trips it makes something in him coil and shake and he's got Roman tendencies ingrained in his Greek blood.

"How do you deal with it?" Percy asks Clarisse, daughter of a war god, the only girl to be the Ares cabin leader for more than two weeks in over a hundred years. She's got a kill count in both monsters and humans and a savage edge to her grin. "The, the PTSD." He belatedly realizes this probably isn't the best thing to talk to Clarisse about (why have her relive bad moments?) but she doesn't seem all too fazed.

"You learn to live through it," she says. "You fought on the battlefield to survive, right? You fought for yourself and the rest of the world. You gave your life to the odds of surviving in order to fight and you did, you fought and look at you, you're alive. Don't waste that. Too many people didn't get the chance, they gambled and lost, so live for them and yourself." Her eyes flicker red and brown and he wonders if she's thinking about Chris Rodriguez, who went insane and became stable and is still alive, living on beside her.

What's Percy supposed to do, though? His entire life has been prepping for one major battle or another. He's used to struggling to live up to a great prophecy and the expectations of his father or Annabeth or Chiron or - somebody. Nico, Jason, his mother, Lupa. Now he seems to have met their expectations and what's he supposed to do now? Live a normal, or as normal as it can get as a demigod, life? He's never lived a normal life. Not when he was bullied, not when he was in camp, not now.

So much of him has changed and it makes him ache sometimes.

Sometimes he's happy. Sometimes he enjoys the feeling of Annabeth in his arms, Grover once again beside him, the Seven laughing around him. Sometimes he likes to lightly tease Nico and Will or split jelly beans with Reyna.

But sometimes it hurts. Sometimes he's tense and coiled, ready to strike because of the smallest things that shouldn't trigger him. Sometimes he can't sleep, or has to check to make sure everyone is still alive and they're still pushing through. Sometimes he has bad flashbacks that he can only be truly pulled out of with a lot of Annabeth-time or being thrown into a body of water.

Something that he finds calming is swimming for miles, floating in a bubble in the ocean or sinking to the bottom of the pool in New Rome and just sitting there. Water has always been a reassuring presence, his father's domain, and in it, he feels in control and safe. He let's himself drift, let's himself know that he's not going to die right then, not there. Percy has the power there and he's always used to having some edge, something to have as a weapon or shield, whether that be Riptide or his own snark, so it's reassuring.

It's a bright summer day before university starts and it reminds him of the day after he came to Camp Half-Blood. When he woke up with his mother in the Underworld and thought it was too beautiful a day since his mother was gone. Today is when he can't keep the nightmares out of his head, when a loud noise makes him reach for Riptide and when the hum of engines in the forges makes him feel like he's up in the air with the a countdown to fight.

By ten in the morning, Percy knows he needs to desperately calm down and get a grip.

So he finds an unused indoor pool, all the outdoor ones were being used, and dives in, letting himself sink to the bottom. The water around him is cool, but warming and the heavy pull of it soothes him. He takes a deep breath, then another. It never fails to fascinate Percy how he can breathe under water. Percy lets himself breathe and relax. _You're in New Rome. Everyone is safe. You are safe. Everything is okay._ He closes his eyes. Lets his mind drift.

Percy didnt even realize he had fallen asleep until he's being _physically dragged out of the pool_. His reaction is automatic - he lashes out before his eyes are even open. A jerk of his arm makes the water ripple, sends the person flying back. Percy registers them and his heart jumps into his throat when he sees it's _Annabeth_. She didn't hit the wall, but it's clear she needs to breathe, chest heaving, eyes wide, so Percy grabs her wrist, creates an air bubble around them without blinking, and swims them both up.

Annabeth is still gulping air when they break water and the guilty knot in Percy's stomach tightens.

"I'm sorry," he says, feeling horrible. Annabeth looks at him, eyes clear, if a bit red. Her cheeks are pink and her hair is a dark gold. She looks so beautiful and kind of terrifying. "Are you okay?"

"You were sitting in the bottom of the swimming pool," she tells him, voice wavering, almost angry. She shoves him away before swimming to the edge and Percy blinks before following her.

"I know? Are you okay?"

Piper crouches in front of him with a fluffy towel in hand but he's dry, so she hands it to Annabeth. A look around tells him that Jason, Leo, Piper and Reyna are here, the last also carrying a First Aid kit.

"She's fine, she's okay, really, but. You scared us, Percy," Piper says, her voice gentle and sweet. "Want to tell us what you were doing?"

"Escaping," comes out of Percy's mouth without a thought. He stops. Glares. Piper looks sheepish.

"Your water powers are sweet," Leo grins. "I can't get over how you're still dry. How long have you been in the pool? Hours? And you're still alive and completely dry, that's so cool, man. Not as cool as me, but you know. What is?" He wiggles his fingers, fire dancing on his fingertips, and Percy's glad that someone isn't acting weird. Yet -

"What time is it?" he asks. Annabeth looks at him from where she's towel-drying her hair, eyes sharp, looking like she's about to reply but Jason beats her to it.

"Almost five in the evening," Jason says steadily, reaching out to clasp his shoulder. His brows are scrunched, furrowing in the middle. "You've been gone for a long time, Percy. You had us worried."

Percy lifts his free shoulder. "I'm sorry," he says again, looking at their faces. Now that Jason points it out, he can see the worried lines on their faces, their tensed postures and clenched fists. "I didn't realize it had been that long. You don't, you didn't have to be worried."

Annabeth gives him a look, the one he's seen a thousand times before. He's seen it so much, she knows she doesn't have to even say anything. It's the look that reads _of course we worry about you, Seaweed Brain_. It's so famiiar.

He realizes a bit hungry, now that he knows the time. He missed lunch. "Can we just, get food? I want to eat. I'm really hungry."

Annabeth frowns at him. "How long have you been down there?"

"...Ten in the morning?" he says, trying not to shift under her gaze. He feels tired, all of a sudden. Tired, guilty and weary. Also, kind of hungry.

"Around seven hours," Reyna calculates, sounding steady, face blank. Percy nods at her and gives her an apologetic look.

"What were you escaping from?" Annabeth demands, drawing his attention back to her.

"Huh?"

She looks just as strained as the rest of them, something angry curling her mouth and something soft in her eyes. Percy wants to erase the anger and worry. "You said you were escaping from something. That's why you sat in the pool."

Percy shifts uncomfortably, the chlorine-tainted water sliding over his elbows and he focused on his hands, gripping the smooth tiled edge of the pool. "Well," he begins. "It's just. I was escaping from the memories. It's been a bad day."

"Percy," Jason begins but Leo interupts, "So you sat at the bottom of a _swimming pool_?" and Percy doesn't really know why it's such a surprise. Yeah, it's weird, but he's the son of the sea god.

"Yeah," he says, sighing, uncomfortable. "Yeah. Um. I'm sorry."

"You're such an idiot sometimes," Annabeth tells him. "Seaweed Brain." She reaches over and grabs his hands before he's able to push off the edge of the pool, clasping his hands in hers. Her skin is warm and damp, her hands familiar - all rough lines, soft palms, long fingers.

Percy doesn't close his eyes, but he does savor the touch.

Jason squeezes his shoulder, his hand a heavy, constant weight. "You can talk to us, Percy," he murmurs, soothing. "Do you know that?"

"Uh," he says. "Yeah." What else is there to say? He _knows_ he can but. It's hard.

He catches the edge of Leo's smile. It's kind of off. Percy feels a bit bad, a bit awkward himself. "Bro," Leo begins. "You have a hella lot of issues." Piper turns to chide him and Leo laughs and it sounds like it's punched out of him.

Percy kind of relates. He wonders why Leo's acting how he is.

"Percy," Reyna says, her voice cool and calculating, the voice she reserves for when she deals with a particularly complex situation. It makes Percy as irritated as he can get right now. "Have you ever thought about talking to someone?"

Percy thinks about hours with Annabeth's voice in his ear, sparring it out Jason, Reyna's reassuring words murmured in New Rome when everything was too raw and unfamiliar. He doesn't remember the last time he talked to them. He remembers talking to Grover, a bit, and Clarisse and sometimes Chiron...

"I've talked to a few people," he says, trying to sound casual and probably failing. He just wants her off his back. He doesn't want to talk to someone, not really. He doesn't have reason to go with his instinct, that was usually Annabeth, but his instincts were sharpened and had failed him few times before. "I'm - "

"You haven't talked to a psychologist," Reyna tells him, cutting and simple. As if she was discussing battle strategy instead of therapy, which is both an impressive and terrible analogy, Percy reflects. "I think you're suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. You're struggling to cope, Percy, and that's dragging you down." Her voice softens, just slight enough to make a difference. For Percy to catch it. "Talking to a therapist doesn't have to hurt. You've survived two wars and you can still do so much if you let yourself."

"I'm trying," he snaps out, struggling to focus on the water, looking down at his and Annabeth's hands. He tries to keep whatever edge he has left, use it to the best he can because that's what he does, that's what he can do. "Just. I'm trying."

Jason's hand squeezes his shoulder and when Percy's eyes flicker up, he feels guilt churning at the lines of worry creasing Jason's face. It occurs to him that Jason is younger than him and he's gone through two wars too. It makes the churning worse. "Perce, you'll be okay, alright? Can you get out of the water?"

Percy doesn't want to. It's safe and warm, it's familiar and soothing around him, but he pulls himself out at the look in Annabeth's eyes. He sits next to her, completely dry.

Leo is fidgeting, shifting, rocking on his heels. Right, ADHD, Percy thinks. Piper is standing beside him, barefoot and in giant overalls that are rolled up at the calf.

"Percy," Annabeth says, squeezing his hand. Her eyes are worried and steady. She's his lifeline and more. Too much and too cliche to put into words. He trusts her with his life, he trusts her to do the right thing, he trusts her now and he knows she trusts him in fights, in mountains, in hell. "I have offers for you and you're going to choose, okay, you're going to choose which deal you prefer. You can either begin talking to a psychologist or therapist and get professional help, or you can begin talking to us. Me, Jason, Grover, Reyna. Any of us. Talk to us about your nightmares and let us help. Obviously, we're not professionals but if you refuse to talk to them, the least you can do is talk to us."

It's like the world has narrowed down to Annabeth - her eyes, her mouth, her hands. She looks at Percy and he knows he has to choose. She's not going to let him get away with not choosing.

"I," he begins and stops. Thinks. Tries to stall. "Well, you know. Those are some offers you've got for me," he murmurs. A flicker of motion in the corner of his eye make his head whip to the side. It's an anxious looking Nico and Will, hovering at the door of the room.

"Percy, come on," Annabeth says, firm. "You've got to choose."

"I know," Percy says. "It's just, err, you know. Talking to people. Like, those people."

He wants to get better. He wants to be able to laugh and chill like he used to, he wants to be able to do something everyday without not being able to some days. He wants to live again, really live, with Pegasus rides, eating until he can't move with Grover, training to get better instead of to take his mind off things, racing chariots, making blue food with Tyson and kissing Annabeth until he can't believe it's real life.

But he doesn't want to talk to a psychologist or therapist or whatever. Strangers in his life are usually monsters. Regardless of the safety of New Rome, Percy can't quite shake the intuition. Maybe he could will himself to, if someone told him that the psychologist or whoever would be nice and okay, if someone swore or even just promised that, but they didn't. He feels a twinge of gratitude for that. Then a twinge of guilt for making them worry about him, fuss.

He looks at Nico, who's scowling and worrying his hands, pressed against Will's side. Nico's eyes are wide and it strikes Percy how incredibly young he is. How much of his life he has left and how much of Percy's life has passed and still will. Kronos is buried in Tartarus, time will go on, the wars are over. There's them left: the survivors, the aftermath of it all. Percy makes a decision right then.

"I'll talk to you guys," Percy says to Annabeth. He looks her in the eye because he knows he owes her that much and he's rarely backed down from a challenge. "Well, err, I'll try?"

Annabeth smiles, something melancholy and off, and kissed him on the cheek. She's warm and smells clean and kind of like chlorine. "Good," she tells him, haughty and fierce. "Good for you."

"Percy?" Nico's voice floats across the room. He looks over and Nico takes a step closer.

"Hey, Nico," Percy says and shrugs, trying to ease up the tension. "Hey, I'm fine."

Jason shifts behind him. Stands properly and his knee brushes Percy's spine, making him jump. Annabeth holds on to him. "He will be," Jason says, so certain.

"Reyna said that you were - sitting at the bottom of a swimming pool?" Will ventures. His hand is tangled with Nico's and Percy smiles slightly at that.

"Yeah," he says flippantly and, "how cute, you're holding hands. Nico's growing up."

"You're such an idiot," Nico tells him, rolling his eyes, most of the anxiety smoothing away. Annabeth shoves at his shoulder and Percy cocks his brows at her to make her smile, relax. "Gods."

Percy looks down at the water. He can see the bottom of the pool, can easily remember the cool tile and currents anchoring him not fifteen minutes ago, can feel the power of the water curling at his hands, his shoulders. He doesn't feel the urge to go back in and hide. He's not better, but this already feels like progress and progress is good. "Well," he says. "Apparently I do stupid shit."

"An understatement," Annabeth proclaims, but kisses him on the cheek again.


End file.
